


The Dream Team

by npse



Category: MasterChef (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/npse/pseuds/npse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hard night at Casa, the two stay up to watch the Olympic gold medal Basketball match between America and Spain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Ben stifled a yawn as he shuffled into the kitchen, his socked feet sliding easily along the white tiles. The room was dark, but he’d made this same trek – from couch to fridge – so many times that he didn’t need the light. He reached out instinctively and sure enough, his long fingers graced the cool metal of the fridge door. Sliding his hand to the left some, he found the handle and pulled the heavy door open.

A wave of cool air washed over him, causing goosebumps to rise on his uncovered forearms in the already cold weather. The bottles and jars inside the fridge clinked against each other and the light blinded him for a moment. He blinked against the blue hue of the fridge as his eyes adjusted, before resting an arm on the open door and bending at the waist to get a proper glance at the contents of the fridge.

Ben’s eyes scanned over the various foods in his fridge. What was he looking for? Food? There was plenty of that. Beer? Plenty of that too. Ben could feel a certain hollowness in his stomach that he always associated with hunger but felt no drive to cook. He just wanted to grab a few beers and chill out on the couch, that’s what he wanted. It had been a looooooong day.

“Game’s on!” Called a voice from the living room, pulling Ben from his thoughts.

“Yep, coming mate!” He returned, reaching into the fridge and wrapping his fingers around the necks of two bottles of beer, pulling them out in one swift movement. He let the fridge door fall shut as he made his way back to the living room, both bottles in one hand as he fished in his back pocket for his keyring bottle opener.

Andy glanced up as he heard Ben coming back to the living room. There was the strangest satisfied grin on Ben’s face that made Andy’s lips curve up in response. “What are you so happy about?” He asked as he took one of the open bottles from Ben.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, you’ve just got this sneaky little grin on your face that makes me think you’ve got a girl hidden back there.”

Ben laughed out loud, passing Andy an open beer and flopping down beside him on the couch.

“You don’t have a chick back there, do you?” Andy asked, a semi-tone of seriousness in his voice.

Ben’s laughter continued, “If I did you sure as hell wouldn’t know about it!”

“Oi, what happened to sharing?”

“It’s every man for himself, Rook.” Ben said playfully, taking a sip of his beer. “What’s not to be happy about, though? I mean, we just had our best night at Casa and now I’m chilling out with a nice cold beer and my best mate. What more could I want?”

“Don’t forget the Dream Team starts soon.” Andy pointed out.

Ben laughed, “Yeah, but that’s more for your benefit than mine.”

The two smiled at each other, only for a moment, before turning their attention to the flat screen TV that sat high up on the wall opposite Ben’s couch. 

Andy was sprawled over the majority of the couch, one arm hanging over the back as the other held onto his beer and balanced it on his stomach, his legs hanging off the edge, while Ben slouched in the limited space he had, his legs stretched out in front of him and laying lazily on top of the cooking magazines, recipe books and tester menus that littered his coffee table. They were both exhausted. It had been one of their biggest nights at Casa – word had gotten around about them and their food and Ben was starting to believe that their business was flourishing because of their quality products as opposed to their ‘celebrity’ status at the moment.

Andy was loving it, no matter what reason they were getting business. All he knew was that he was spending his time doing what he loved with people he loved and that was all that mattered. He took another lazy sip of his beer as the TV cut to ads straight after the American national anthem. “Great,” He muttered, “Now we’re gonna miss tip-off.”

Andy wasn’t going to lie, he’d hated almost every second of the free-to-air Olympic coverage in Australia. He tried to boycott the games, but when it came down to it, he just couldn’t say no to an opportunity to watch the American Dream Team free of charge.

Ben on the other hand, wasn’t quite as phased by the lack of decent coverage. He’d only really gotten into basketball since Andy had been living with him, and that had only been because Andy was too lazy to go back to his hotel after a night at the pop-up. It had never really been decided that Andy would be living with Ben, it just gradually happened. It was a silent agreement. Ben always asked Andy if he was heading back to the hotel, but he always answered with a non-committed ‘maybe’.

Ever since, they’d been having more fun than ever. They spent their nights working at Casa, coming home and cooking together before sitting down and watching some Olympics before one or both of them passed out from exhaustion. Eventually they’d wake, never earlier than 9am, and Ben would take Andy around his hometown before heading back into Casa at around midday to prepare for their next nights work. They were usually tired by the time they got back to the restaurant, but their routine didn’t change one bit.

“Finally,” Andy groaned as the game started, without missing tip off.

Ben wasn’t really as into basketball as Andy, but over time he’d grown to like it. During their nights up watching the sport, Andy had taught him a few things and given him statistics on both Australian and American players. He was clearly dedicated to the sport and it was nice to see that kind of passion in Andy focussed on something other than cooking. It refreshed Ben to know that Andy was more than just an electrician who can cook.

It didn’t take long for Andy’s relaxed position on the couch to fade away – as soon as the Dream Team started shooting their trademark three-pointers, he was sitting up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting in his hands. He was completely transfixed by the abilities of the American team. Ben couldn’t help but smile as he watched Andy watching the game.

**

It was half time. 58 – 59. The Dream Team was winning. Just.

Andy and Ben were as far forward on their seats as they could be without falling off, and now that the team was breaking for a moment, it seemed only fitting for them to do so as well. Ben fell back against the couch, exhaling slowly through his nose as his muscles relaxed. Andy stretched his arms out in front of him before standing to stretch up toward the roof, hearing a feint crack in his shoulder – an old basketball pain.

“How long’s half time again?” Ben murmured, letting his eyes close for a moment.

“Um, I’m not sure. It shouldn’t be too long, but. It better not be too long, let’s put it that way! That first half was amazing, I don’t think I can wait too long to see the next half of this game. How good is it? You can tell why they’re called the Dream Team, hey Benno?” Andy ruffled his hair a little, leaning back to get a glance at his reflection in a mirror across the room. He yawned largely before glancing at Ben. Watching him for a moment, Andy kicked Ben’s legs gently.

“Don’t fall asleep Benny! Not when the best is yet to come!”

“I’m not,” Ben mumbled, sleep clawing at his consciousness.

Andy looked doubtfully at him before shaking his head. “Whatever you say, mate. I’m getting beers.”

Ben made a noise that Andy assumed was him pretending he wasn’t falling asleep and it made him smile, shaking his head as he wandered into the kitchen.

Wandered was about right, as Andy had to take apprehensive steps further into the darkness that was Ben’s kitchen. He’d been in there many times, but only in the light, so he had no idea where he was going or what dangers could lie ahead. Tiny steps were the key and extended arms to feel for obstacles. Andy could feel his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness as his hands made contact with cold metal. It was either the fridge or the oven, by Andy’s reckoning.

Feeling around the metal, Andy’s fingers graced over a long vertical handle that reassured Andy that he’d found the fridge – and without injury too! He was pretty chuffed with himself as he pulled open the heavily stocked fridge door.

“Let’s see what you’ve got in her Benny boy…” Andy whispered quietly to himself, crouching down to get a better glimpse of the insides of the machine. There wasn’t anything too interesting in there, not unless expired yoghurt was considered interesting. The fact that Ben even had yoghurt made Andy smile – reminding him of the breakfasts they used to share in the MasterChef kitchen. Those were nice times.

Feeling sentimental and nostalgic, Andy grabbed two beers, despite feeling confident that Ben would be asleep on the couch by now.

Sure enough, he was. Andy gave a quiet chuckle as he quietly set the beers down on the coffee table and searched the mess of papers for Ben’s bottle opener. It took only a moment of searching for Andy to remember where the bottle opener was. Ben’s pocket.

Glancing back at his friend, Andy bit the inside of his cheek. Would it be crossing some kind of friendship boundary to reach into Ben’s pocket and pull out the bottle opener? Surely not – they’d shared a bed after all, reaching into his pocket was normal compared to that. And Andy really wanted that beer.

As the TV reminded him the game was about to resume – thank God for quick half time breaks was all Andy could think – he turned in his seat to get a better look at Ben. He was definitely asleep. Andy closed his eyes briefly, calming himself and exhaling slowly before opening his eyes again and focusing on the task at hand. He was pretty sure the bottle opener was in Ben’s left pocket, which unfortunately was the one furthest away from Andy.

Andy held his breath as he reached an arm out, extending it over Ben’s body and inching further across him until he was in a decent position to manoeuvre his way into Ben’s pocket. Risking a glance at Ben, Andy threw caution to the wind and reached into Ben’s pocket, feeling around for a moment before finding and extracting the bottle opener. Ben stirred in his sleep momentarily, but seemed to settle again. Andy breathed a sigh of relief.

He shuffled forward on the couch again, glad he wasn’t caught in an awkward position with Ben. He popped his beer and took a grateful sip as he reached for the remote to turn the volume on the TV down a little bit.

“Not gonna open mine, huh?”

Andy almost spat his beer out, opting instead to turn to see Ben.

“Sorry, I thought you were asleep!” He managed to choke out, turning away and setting his beer down and popping the spare.

Ben was donning an amused smirk as Andy passed him the beer. “How’d you get that?” He asked, glancing at the bottle opener before returning his eyes to Andy.

“It was on the table.” Andy lied, turning his attention back to the TV where, thankfully, play was about to resume.

Ben knew Andy was lying. Andy knew Ben knew. But neither said a word. Instead, Andy slid back on the couch, slouching beside Ben. Their shoulders touching.

“Here’s to another brilliant half.” Ben proposed, holding his bottle out for Andy to clink his against it.

“To the Dream Team,” Andy agreed, tapping the neck of his bottle against Ben’s and the two drank in unison.

**

The second half was good, if not better than the first, and with five minutes to go, Ben and Andy were on the edge of their seats again. It didn’t take long for their relaxed state to fade away, replaced once more by the excitement, anticipation and worry that came with a gold medal Olympic Basketball match as close as this one was. It was a nail biter and still anyone’s game. Andy couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous about a game – probably when the last match he played, if he was being honest.

Damn, he did it again. He’d been doing it all second half, watching and reflecting on his own basketball career, or what could have been a career. It was bringing him down a little bit, to be so caught up on himself when there was a first class game unfolding in front of him. Whenever he felt he was sinking in his own thoughts a little too much, there was a call of excitement or a glance or an exclamation of ‘how good was that?!’ from Ben to bring him back to the here and now. Andy was grateful for that.

The final minutes of the match ticked down, almost giving Andy a heart attack as one point separated the champion teams with Spain getting the ball down their end of the count too many times for Andy’s liking. But thankfully the Dream Team pulled it together and kept their defences up to come away with the win.

“Yesssss!” Ben called out, turning to Andy for a high five. He hadn’t noticed Andy fall back against the couch, but clearly he had.

“You right, Rook?” He asked, frowning slightly.

Andy frowned too, his eyes focussed on the beer in his hands. “I don’t really know…”

Ben was caught off guard. He thought Andy was having fun – what changed? He turned to face Andy, worry starting to show on his face. “What’s up, mate?”

“Nothing.” Andy took a swig of his beer and gave a shake of his head. “Not really anyway. I dunno, I’m just being stupid, really.” He glanced at Ben and tried to look reassuring, but the look on Ben’s face stopped him. “It’s just-“ He sighed, looking up at the TV where Lebron James was receiving his gold medal. “That could have been me, y’know? I was good. Good enough to play for Australia. With a bit of work, maybe good enough for the Olympic team – who knows? I could have done that. I could have been there. I could have played them. There’s so many things I could have done, so many places I could have gone, people I could have met… but I gave it away.”

Andy’s voice was sad and distant. He was feeling melancholic and nostalgic and drunk and it wasn’t a good mix – not at all.

“I guess I just miss it.”

Ben nodded, but he knew that wasn’t it. “You’re worried you made the wrong choice, aren’t you?”

Andy glanced at Ben again, his eyes searching his best friend’s for a while before he gave a reluctant nod.

Ben knew he could say something supportive, but he didn’t. It wouldn’t help, not right now. Instead, he moved closer to Andy and draped an arm around his shoulders. “You can only know if it was the wrong choice if you’ve given it a chance to be the right choice.”

Andy glanced up at Ben, thinking over what he said before cracking a smile. “Since when did you get so philosophical, huh?”

Ben laughed, “Mate, I’m a teacher – I get paid to say stuff like that. Doesn’t make it any less true, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Andy rolled his eyes but made no effort to move away from Ben’s embrace. Instead he settled in against Ben’s body a little and the two sat as one on the couch, watching the medal ceremony of the basketball in silence.

**

Andy awoke with a pounding headache. He groaned, bringing his right hand up to his head and fighting to open his eyes. It was still dark. Considering they were awake at 1am watching the basketball, this could only mean that it was still early morning. No wonder he had a headache – Andy, beer and no sleep didn’t exactly mix. He glanced at his watch. 5:24am. Not too bad, at least he’d gotten some sleep.

The TV was still on across from him, probably what woke him up, as they broadcasted repeats of the gymnastics in readiness for the closing ceremony which was set to begin at 6am. At least he’d have something to watch if he couldn’t sleep. He let his eyes fall shut again, sighing contently as he shifted in his seat a little. A noise from beside him caused his eyes to fly open, and he looked beside him to see Ben. Well, beside him wasn’t really accurate. More like under him.

Ben lay with one arm dangling off the couch and Andy’s head on his chest. Their legs were entangled. Andy’s left hand was holding Ben’s right. If Andy hadn’t been quite as sleep deprived as he currently was, he would have pulled it away, but for now – he left it. It felt right. He snuggled into Ben a little more, smiling against the familiarity of it all and sure enough, the pull of sleep dragged him away once more.


	2. Part Two

Andy rolled over, startling slightly when he almost fell off whatever he was sleeping on. What was he sleeping on? Andy could feel his senses waking from sleep and he was becoming more aware of what was going on around him and where he was. Judging by the sound of the ocean coming from behind him and the sweep of a cold morning breeze through the windows, Andy was pretty sure he wasn’t in a bed. Too lazy to open his eyes, he breathed deeply as he tried to piece the night together. A night at Casa. An evening game of first class basketball and beers. And then falling asleep…on the couch? Is that where he was? Wait – that couldn’t be right. There was someone else on that couch with him, wasn’t there? It took a few moments, but Andy managed to crack open his eyes and glance around only to see an empty couch. He frowned, letting his head fall back against the cushions, groaning as the new angle caused sunlight to stream directly into his eyes. He brought his arm up to block out the sun, turning his head to look at the TV just in time to see some Brazilians dancing around. But wasn’t the Olympics in London? Andy’s head hurt.

He brought a hand up to press against his forehead, feeling a small throb underneath his palm. He hadn’t had that many beers last night, but lack of food and sleep and a few beers was definitely a recipe for a hangover.

“Ugh.” He groaned again, shifting positions on the couch so he could watch the TV easier. The drums on the TV were too much for his head to handle but he couldn’t see the remote and he wasn’t about to get up to turn the TV off. At that moment there was a crashing noise from the left wing of the apartment, causing him to sit upright and his head to pound more than before. Despite a headache to rival all other headaches, Andy was far too curious and desperate for aspirin to not investigate the noise from the kitchen. He tip-toed through the house, dodging discarded sneakers, jackets and other assorted items that littered the floor. As he made his way to the kitchen, Andy began to recognise his surroundings – it was Ben’s house.

A gently whistled tune came from inside the kitchen, low in volume and ragged in its flow, causing Andy to smile. He knew now that there wasn’t any intruder or anything else of the sort – it was just Ben. Andy walked into the kitchen, making an effort to be a little noisy and catch Ben’s attention.

He did.

Ben, who was chopping some capsicum on the centre counter top in the kitchen, glanced up as Andy shuffled into the room.

“Morning mate,” Ben said with a smile. “Sleep alright?”

Andy held his hand to his head again. “Sleep was awesome, waking up sucked.”

“Panadol is in the cupboard above the sink.” Ben chuckled, pointing with his knife toward the cupboard.

Andy nodded, “Thanks Benny.” He made his way across the room to the sink, grabbing the aspirin from the cupboard and popping two out onto his open palm. “You can only take two, right?”

“Probably three, but you’re better off just having two.” Ben advised, turning on a hotplate on the stove and placing a pan on top to heat up.

Andy nodded, knocking the pills back into his mouth before leaning down to drink water from the faucet of the sink. He gulped the pills down, straightening up and resting back against the sink to watch Ben work. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast. Omelette okay?” Ben poured the beaten eggs into the hot fry pan and started adding chopped tomatoes, capsicums, mushrooms and anything else he had prepared on the bench.

“You don’t have to make breakfast,” Andy said quietly, even though it was clearly too late to say anything like that.

Ben glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow. “You right, mate?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m good.” He covered with a nod. Memories from the night before were starting to come back to Andy, the cuddling on the couch, the hand holding. He wondered if Ben knew about any of it or if he didn’t care. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m good. There’s juice in the fridge if you want it, but other than that you should probably go rest. This’ll be done soon.”

Andy did as he was told, escaping back into the living room and flopping down on the couch. The closing ceremony was in full swing as Andy tried to process some of the previous night’s shenanigans. Mainly whether he and Ben were still spooning when Ben woke up this morning. The couch was hardly large enough for two men such as themselves to share it without spooning in some fashion, and it wasn’t as though it was the first time the two best friends had shared a couch, but it was the first time that Andy had really thought about it. It wasn’t normal, was it? To share a couch and hold hands with your best friend while you slept? Surely not. If not, then what did it mean?

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Ben traipsed into the room holding two plates and some cutlery, the smell of an amazing omelette wafting through the air and making Andy’s mouth water.

“This is still going?” Ben asked incredulously as he passed a plate, fork and knife over to Andy before taking his seat beside him.

“Yep. It’s been on since 6am or something.” Andy said, resting the plate on his lap and breaking the omelette open slightly with his fork. The aromas were amazing.

“I know,” Ben said through a mouthful of omelette, “I woke up just as that British boy band started to sing. That song is so bloody catchy.”

Andy burst out laughing, “You’re kidding me. You mean One Direction right?”

Ben blushed a little, “Yeah! C’mon, you can’t say that it’s not catchy.”

“It’s really not, Ben. You should be ashamed that you said that.” He joked.

“Not even! It gets stuck in my head all the time.”

“What one was it?” Andy asked, glancing at Ben as he had another bite of the omelette. “This is awesome by the way.”

“Don’t they only have one song?”

“I don’t know.”

“It was the beautiful one. Y’know – you don’t know you’re beautiful.” Ben half-spoke, half-sang the last part before shoving more food into his mouth. Andy wanted to laugh at him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. It was actually kinda cute that he knew the song and that he sung it. Wait – no. It wasn’t cute. Friends weren’t cute.

“I can’t believe you even know the words.” Andy said with a shake of his head.

“Shut up, “ Ben rolled his eyes, laughing quietly.

The two watched the TV for a while, eating in silence as the glimpse of the future Rio 2016 Olympics drew to a close.

“Did you watch much of this?” Andy asked Ben, just to make conversation.

“Not really.”

“Weren’t interested once One Direction were gone?” He teased.

“Shut up,” Ben groaned, smiling despite himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. Everyone likes a stupid band. For you, it’s One Direction.”

“And for you?”

Andy shrugged. “Only stupid people like stupid bands.”

Ben laughed, nudging Andy. “Come off it! Tell me who it is!”

“They’re not even that stupid.” Andy defended himself before he’d even admitted to anything. “Fine it’s – Eminem.”

Ben arched an eyebrow again. “Seriously? That’s nothing.”

“I know. It’s nowhere near as bad as One Direction anyway.” Andy teased again, returning his attention to the omelette in front of him.

“I don’t like them…”

“Sure you don’t.”

“One Thing is really catchy too though.”

Andy couldn’t do anything but laugh. The two men ate their breakfast, laughing and smiling and watching the Closing Ceremony of the Olympics.

**

“NO WAY!” Andy called out, forcing Ben to drop the dishes in the sink and rush back to the couch.

“What’s wrong?”

But just as he asked, Ben’s eyes flicked to the TV and he saw. Andy reached for the remote to the TV, turning up the volume as the crowd in the arena went crazy. Ben joined Andy at the couch just in time for the opening riff to Baba O’Riley by the Who to make its way through the speakers. Ben had never regretted having a bad sound system for his TV until this moment.

“I loooooooove this song,” Andy practically groaned, turning the TV up even more. Ben had always been a fan of the Who, but he’d never been aware of Andy’s attraction toward the band.

“I had no idea you liked them!”

“Mate, the Who are my favourite band!”

The two smiled at each other fleetingly before the band they both so admired picked up on stage, the drums and other instruments breaking into the solo guitar intro and really starting the song. It took all of two seconds for Andy and Ben to bust out the air-guitars, Andy jumping onto the couch and wailing along with the chorus:

“It’s onlyyyyyyyyy teeeeeeeeeeeenage wasteland!”

Ben laughed at Andy’s performance but it wasn’t long before he was singing along just as loudly.

As the medley of Who songs continued, the pair continued to jump around and shout the lyrics and play imaginary instruments until the start of the next song made them even more excited than before, if that were even possible.

“People try to put us d-down!” They shouted in unison as The Who started into what was possibly their most famous song, My Generation.

Despite having only been awake for less than an hour and having had no more than four hours sleep, Andy had never felt more energised than he did in that moment. Jumping around and being a fool with Ben, listening to one of the best bands of all time – what more could he want? A shower, probably, but there was time for that afterwards.

Ben had never seen this side of Andy before. The few times they’d gone out for drinks Andy had avoided dancing like the plague, but here he was making a big fool of himself at 9am just because the Who were on TV. Unless Andy was still tipsy from the night before, there was nothing to blame his actions on other than he really liked air-guitar. And the thought of that being true made Ben laugh uncontrollably. But he couldn’t lie, the infectious happiness and dancing and singing by Andy had an effect on Ben, making him act just as stupid as Andy.

To their dismay, a medley of Who songs could only last for so long and before the two were even aware of it, their set had finished. Ben and Andy applauded with the crowd, both breathing heavily from the jumping and singing. Andy rested his hands on his hips as he tried to catch his breath.

“Damn, they’ve still got it.” He managed to get out between ragged breaths.

“I think you’ve still got it.” Ben said with a laugh, “Mate I’ve never seen you that excited before.”

“What can I say, it’s the Who. They make me a little crazy.” Andy grinned, pushing his fringe back with his hands.

“I honestly had no idea you liked them. They don’t seem like your kind of thing.” Ben said, falling back on the couch.

“Bet you didn’t know I was so good at air-guitar either,” he joked.

“None whatsoever.” Ben smiled at him.

“I used to listen to Baba O’Riley before games. Like a sort of good luck charm. It usually worked.”

“Usually?”

“Yeah. The last time I listened to it and played, it didn’t work. Last time I played too, funnily enough.” Andy thought for a moment. “First time I’ve listened to it since, now that I think about it.”

Ben gave a small nod, watching Andy closely.

“Oh well. Can I steal a shirt and some pants or something? I reek.”

“Uh- yeah. You know where it all is, right?”

“I’m sure I’ll find it.” Andy said with a small smile before escaping into Ben’s room for a few moments and then the bathroom. Once Ben could hear the water running in the shower, he rose from the couch and made his way into his garage, searching for something.

**

The shower was incredibly refreshing for Andy. The morning had been fun and he was feeling energised and ready for the day ahead. Usually, Ben showed Andy around his hometown on their days off, so he was looking forward to what part of Ben’s past he’d be introduced to today.

He glanced at his reflection in the fogged up bathroom mirror, wiping away the steam from the glass and brushing his hair out of his eyes. “You need a haircut Allen,” Andy told himself as he considered shaving his three-day-old stubble. He glanced down at the sink, spotting no razor but new toothbrush. Ben was always prepared for Andy’s visits, knowing that he’d more than likely sleep over. He was good like that.

Andy ripped the cardboard off the back of the new toothbrush, pull it free from the package and running it under water for a few moments before loading it with toothpaste and starting to brush. He bent down as he was brushing to check the pockets of his discarded pants, the ones from yesterday, for his mobile phone to no avail. It was probably out on the couch. He pulled the bathroom door open, brushing his teeth as he made his way back into the living room and started searching for his phone.

“I see you found the toothbrush then?” Ben asked sheepishly.

Andy nodded, mouth full of foamy toothpaste.

“What are you looking for?”

With his hand, Andy signalled his mobile phone.

“I haven’t seen it. I’ll have a look, you go to the bathroom before you spit toothpaste everywhere.” Ben pushed Andy out of the way playfully and Andy returned to the bathroom to spit.

“Found it Brick.” Ben called out as Andy rinsed his mouth out.

Andy glanced at his reflection once more, taking in the way that Ben’s blue singlet hung off his body. They had relatively the same body shape, but Andy was a little smaller than Ben so his clothes always seemed to hang off him. Naturally, it wasn’t the first time he’d stolen some of Ben’s clothes. It was just the first time Ben knew. Any other time Andy stayed the night at Ben’s, he stole and wore his clothes without Ben noticing.

Shuffling out to the living room once more, Andy dropped his bundle of old clothes onto the couch before calling out to Ben. “What’s on the agenda today Benno? Markets?”

“It’s Monday, Andy.” Ben replied from inside his bedroom.

“Oh…right. Well what are we doing?” He asked, making his way to the doorway of Ben’s bedroom and leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for something.” Ben muttered, his head inside his wardrobe. 

“Looking for what? Maybe I can help?” Andy suggested.

“Never mind – I found it.” He said, pulling something from the furthest corner of the wardrobe. Ben shuffled back a little, pulling the box with him and setting it down on the floor space where he’d just been kneeling. “Oh right,” Ben said to himself, reaching into his pocket and pulling out Andy’s phone. “Here you go, Rook.” He said, turning to Andy and lobbing the phone over to him.

“What – hey!” He said, pushing off the doorframe to catch the phone. “You’re lucky I can catch…” He mumbled, checking his texts.

Ben laughed, “Even if you couldn’t catch it wouldn’t matter. Those phones never break.”

“True that.” Andy agreed, sounding distracted as he typed out a reply to one of the many texts from his friends. The clicking of the keypad made Ben smile. “Andy, you’ve got to be the only person I know that still owns a phone with a keypad.”

Andy glanced up, “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I guess.” Ben said with a shrug.

“I just don’t see the point in wasting money on expensive phones.” Andy said a little defensively.

“It’s not like you’re running out of money any time soon, though.” Ben pointed out.

“Yeah, well.” Andy rolled his eyes a little, returning to his texts. “Hey, Kylie wants to know what time we’re heading to Casa this afternoon. What do you reckon?”

Ben was rummaging through the box he’d just pulled from his wardrobe. “Um, I don’t know… 12ish? We could make lunch before we start prep.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Andy typed out a reply to Kylie. “Will that leave time for whatever we’re doing today?”

“Mate, it’ll be plenty.” Ben grinned as he located what he was looking for, taking it in his hands and pulling it from the box.

“Are you gonna tell us what we’re doing-“

“Head’s up,” Ben called.

Andy managed to look up just in time to catch the basketball that Ben had thrown his way. “This is what you were looking for?”

“Yup.” Ben grinned.

“Why?”

“Because we’re gonna go play.”

“Why?”

“Because you said last night that you missed it.” Andy tried to fight the smile that made its way onto his lips. “And because you just listened to Baba. Gotta go see if it’s still lucky, right?”

Now, there was no fighting it. Andy grinned. “You’re on, mate.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Monday morning sun shone brightly over the concrete basketball court, warming Andy’s exposed shoulders as he bounced the ball a few times just to loosen up. It had only been a few minutes ago that Ben had suggested they go play a match but it still felt like Andy had been waiting far too long. Watching the Americans win the gold medal that morning had reminded him of how much he loved, and missed, the game and Ben could see that. The walk to the court from Ben’s house had been short and the cool weather had been enough to wake Andy up and he was feeling refreshed, energised and keen to get going with the match.

“You plan on passing that anytime soon?” Ben asked, smiling cheekily as Andy glanced up as if ripped from a dream.

“Not on your life, mate.” Andy replied, echoing Ben’s smile. He moved toward Ben and started to dribble the ball, relishing the sound it made upon impact with the flat court. “So, what’s the plan for the game? You think you can beat me?”

Ben rolled his eyes dramatically, “I know I can, Rook.”

“Thems fighting words, Milbourne.” Andy gave Ben a pointed look that turned sly in a matter of seconds as Andy started to jog whilst dribbling the ball, breaking out into a run towards the hoop before jumping and popping the ball in the air, flicking it down and through the hoop in one quick, delicate and impressive movement. Ben wasn’t sure if he should hide his worry or his pride more so he didn’t bother trying to hide either, instead choosing to awkwardly gape at Andy’s display of skill.

“Still think you can beat me?” Andy asked cockily, holding the ball between his hip and wrist as he walked back to Ben.

“Nup,” He admitted with a shake of the head. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try though.”

Andy practically guffawed, “Bring it on.”

Ben grinned and smacked the ball out from its perch between Andy’s bones, bouncing it as he ran towards the same hoop Andy had just scored on.

“We playing half-court?” Andy asked as he chased after him.

Ben planted his feet, steadying himself to take a shot as Andy jumped in front of him, trying to defend. He let his gaze drop from the hoop to Andy’s brown eyes only momentarily before returning his focus to the hoop behind him. Poking out his tongue just so, Ben shifted the ball in his hands, expertly dodging Andy’s attempts to swat it away, before giving a small jump and popping the ball up into the air. It flew in the right direction, even hit the rim of the hoop, but sailed past. Andy’s laughter was loud and obnoxious but still enough to bring a smile to Ben’s face.

“That was pathetic!”

“Cheers,” Ben said dryly, playing hurt.

“Who taught you how to shoot hoops?” Andy asked incredulously.

Ben thought for a moment before realising that wow, no one had actually taught him how to shoot a decent basket. “No one.” He admitted and Andy’s face fell.

“Serious?”

“Dead-set.”

Andy shook his head, “Well this game isn’t continuing until I know that it’s a level playing field.” He said, gathering the ball from a shrub beside the court before positioning himself on the three-point line. “Come ‘ere.” Ben did as he was told, walking over to where Andy was standing. “Alright, watch me.”

Ben rolled his eyes again. “I’ve seen people do it before.”

“Then how do you not know how to shoot?”

“I do!” Ben insisted, “I’m just not very good at it.”

Andy shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips before he handed the ball over. “Alright, show me how you do it then.” He folded his arms across his chest as Ben took the ball and steadied himself. His form was alright, as Andy looked him over – feet a decent distance apart, arms right, hand position. Everything seemed right. “Okay and now shoot.” Andy instructed and almost instantly saw the problem. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Andy called, holding his hands up. “Time out, Benno, I’ve found your problem.”

“Alright _Jordan_ ,” Ben rolled his eyes playfully at Andy, “What is it?”

“You’re not jumping right.” Andy replied with a small smile.

Ben laughed, “What? How am I supposed to jump differently? Isn’t there only one way to jump?” He asked incredulously and Andy shook his head, laughing quietly.

“Nah, there’s not. Here, gimme that.” He motioned for the ball and Ben passed it over. “Watch me, okay?” Andy said and Ben nodded. “So this is how you stand.” He said, demonstrating Ben’s pose. “And that’s fine. Your hands are fine, but you might wanna spread your fingers a little more like this.” Andy glanced up to see Ben watching intently, nodding for him to continue. “And this is how you jump-“ He jumped but didn’t shoot the ball, just showing Ben his jump.

“I don’t get it, what’s wrong with it?” Ben asked, bringing a hand to the back of his head to scratch at his hair absentmindedly. Andy smirked in an effort to hide his smile.

“You’re not getting enough spring in it.” Andy said. “It’s hard to explain, but you jump flat. Like, you don’t bend your knees enough and you’re not pushing off with your feet. You’re using your thighs to push you up but you need to use your feet too. Like this.” And with that Andy bounced the ball in front of himself a few times before shuffling his feet and steadying himself, catching the ball on its ascent, turning it in his hands a few times before looking up to the basketball hoop in front of him. He was vaguely aware that Ben was still watching him but, like it did when he played all those years ago, having the ball and being so close to the hoop zoned everything else out.

Andy breathed out through his nose slowly before bringing his elbows in and jumping, shooting the ball once his jump reached its peak and flicking his wrist to give the ball a little bit of extra speed.

“It’s a little harder when you’re not running and shooting, but that’s pretty much how you do it.” Andy said, grinning as his eyes followed the ball across the air and through the hoop. “Wanna try it?” He glanced at Ben to see him smiling fondly at him. “What’s that look for?”

Ben shook his head. “Nothing mate.” He chuckled as he jogged lazily after the ball that had rolled into the bushes around the court once more. “Let me practice jumping a few times and then we’ll have a game.”

“Righto,” Andy agreed, stretching his arms up above his head. “Just don’t go whingeing when I beat you.”

“That’s not gonna happen now,” Ben promised with a cheeky grin, bringing the ball back to the court and shooting it towards the basket, jumping the way Andy had shown him. Sure enough, the ball sailed across the court and through the hoop and Ben’s grin turned smug. “You shouldn’t have taught how to do it properly.”

“I had to, mate, you were shocking. Now at least it’ll be a fair match.” Andy called out as he caught up to the ball.

“Check the ball and let’s get started then,” Ben instructed and was caught off guard as Andy lobbed the ball to him over his head. He caught it though, dribbling it in front of him until Andy jogged over, standing opposite him.

“Bring it on, Milbourne.” Andy challenged and Ben grinned.

**

The entirety of their match lasted almost two hours and in the end, neither of them could agree on who’d won. Andy swore that there was no way he’d been beaten by an amateur and maybe that was true but it certainly didn’t stop Ben from disagreeing. They laughed and playfully fought during the match and all the walk back to Ben’s apartment, ignoring the way the wind bit into their exposed skin. They were still warm from the exercise of playing basketball to remember the weather.

“I’m having a shower,” Ben announced as soon as they stepped into his apartment and Andy felt no need to argue, flopping down on the couch instead and reaching for the remote. He flipped through the channels as he heard the water turn on in the bathroom. Andy’s mind wandered though as the morning talk show started to bore him and it didn’t take long for Andy to think over the morning’s events.

His mind toyed with each different explanation for what happened that morning and even though it could easily be put down to a friendly game of basketball, something inside Andy made him believe otherwise. Something.

“What are you watching that crap for?” Ben asked as he made the trek from the bathroom to his own bedroom. Andy’s eyes refocussed on the TV and saw that he was watching a kids program, the morning talk show having finished apparently. He didn’t say anything, just turned the TV off with the remote, resting it on his chest while he got lost in his thoughts again.

It only took a few more moments for Andy to get annoyed with himself and his overthinking, rising from the couch to freshen himself up in the bathroom. He was still sticky from basketball but wasn’t too interested in having another shower, being as lazy as he was. Andy stopped himself in the doorway of the bathroom though as he spotted Ben in front of the mirror applying shaving cream to his cheeks and chin.

He leaned against the doorframe and watched Ben and the little nagging in his mind gnawed at him again until Ben spoke.

“Want me to teach you how to shave, Rook? Looks like you need it.” Ben joked, glancing at Andy in the mirror. Andy rolled his eyes but stepped into the small bathroom, taking a seat on the side of the long white bathtub that housed the shower.

“You don’t really need to shave,” Andy observed. “You always look like a baby anyway, facial hair or no.”

Ben laughed, “Cheers.”  He brought the disposable razor to his cheek, sliding it down slowly and wiping  the cream from the blade once he was done. Andy watched Ben shave and the only sound in the cramped room is their breathing at the dull scratching sounds of sharpened metal against skin.

“You wanna talk about it?” Ben asked, running the razor under the water from the tap to free it of some of the hair and cream in its blades.

Andy tried to keep his breathing even. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking about.” He gave Andy a look before continuing. “I can tell when you’re thinking – you always look confused when you’re thinking about something.” A small smile twitched his lips.

“Maybe because I’m a bit confused.” Andy admitted and Ben’s smile fell flat.

“Okay… what about?” He asked, turning back to the mirror and his previous task.

“Nah, it’s nothing.” Andy said, looking down at his hands and scratching at his short thumb nail.

Ben paused mid-shave and sighed. “Mmkay,” was all he said before continuing.

The bathroom fell into silence again but it wasn’t comfortable like it had been before and Andy wondered how it had changed so quickly. “It’s just-“ Andy started lamely, sighing. He couldn’t find the right words without sounding like an idiot. “Today was fun.” He said finally.

“You mean this morning?” Ben asked, looking at him in the mirror. “Today’s not over mate. Wait – is that what this is about?”

Andy shrugged and puffed out a breath. “I don’t know.”

Ben put the razor down, reaching for his towel to rub the rest of the shaving cream away and moved to sit beside Andy on the bathtub. “What’s going on, Andy? Talk to me.”

He glanced up into his bestfriend’s caring eyes and felt his insides tighten. His eyes dropped to Ben’s lips before darting away quickly.

“I don’t know how to say it without being weird.” He admitted and felt young and stupid because of it.

“Mate, whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Andy groaned at himself for being such a girl about everything. “I just-“ He started, before deciding to just be honest. “Why did we play ball this morning?”

Ben frowned slightly. “Because you’d just listened to your song, remember?”

“…And that’s it?”

Andy met Ben’s gaze again and the two of them stared at each other. This time, it was Ben’s turn to stumble over words.

“I guess not.” He admitted and Andy was, despite himself, caught offguard. He’d thought it was in his head.

“Why did you make me play this morning?” Andy pressed.

Another weighty silence filled the space between them. “Because I knew you missed it. I knew that watching the match this morning made you nostalgic. I dunno, mate… I guess I just wanted to see if it made you happy the way you remember it making you happy.” Neither of them said anything for a few seconds before Ben continued. “It does, y’know. I could see it on your face that you were happy. Happier than I think I’ve seen you in the kitchen.”

Andy gave a low, short chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Ben asked, feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing.” He said instinctively before asking instead, “This morning, you woke up first?”

“Yeah, you know I did…”

“Was there anything weird about waking up this morning?” Andy didn’t want to look at Ben but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He’s glad he didn’t though, because as the flash of realisation washed over Ben’s face, his cheeks turned pink and Andy couldn’t help but smile.

“Like some big lump cuddling up to me?” Ben said jokingly, smiling at Andy. “Nah, it wasn’t weird.”

“Not even the holding hands?” Andy asked, eyebrows raised.

“Definitely not weird.”

Andy nodded, unsure of what it all really meant. Ben seemed to be in the same mindset as him – satisfied by the answers but still left uncertain of how they all fit together.

“It wasn’t basketball that made me happy this morning.” Andy blurted. “Not totally, anyway. I mean, yeah, that was fun, but I think what made me happier was who it was with.” He heard Ben make a questioning noise but Andy continued anyway. “Like in the kitchen. Cooking’s great all the time, I love it – but when I’m cooking with you by my side?” Andy gave a small laugh, “Nothing’s better. Playing ball with you was better than any of the matches I’ve ever played.”

Ben can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face. “True?”

“True.”

Ben nodded understandingly. “I’ve got a confession to make. I did all that stuff this morning – basketball and everything – in the hopes that you’d see that what you’re doing isn’t a mistake. Last night you said you were worried you’d made the wrong choice going onto MasterChef and I wanted to prove to you that some things in your life were better now than they were before… Like me, maybe.” Ben said the last part quietly and quickly, as if afraid that Andy would actually hear him.

The two men looked at each other again, after having let their eyes wander the room earlier, and Andy couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward and into Ben’s personal space, pressing their lips together chastely.

“I can’t believe you actually listened to what I was saying last night-“ Andy started but Ben interrupted him by kissing him again, a little harder than before. They kissed for what seemed like forever before they both needed a break to breathe and Andy put his hand on Ben’s chest. “My life is better now, Ben. Especially now.”

Ben grinned his goofy grin and Andy rolled his eyes, his mouth curving into a smile as he looked away.

“Does this mean Bandy is a real thing?” Ben asked cautiously, leaning into Andy’s body and pressing his nose against the other man’s neck.

“No.” Andy said definitively with a shake of the head and watched as Ben’s shoulders dropped and he pulled away. “Not Bandy – the Dream Team.” He corrected lamely, leaning in to catch Ben’s lips in his own.


End file.
